Blue On Blue
by lucychatterly
Summary: AR. Kinda takes off on 'The Draco'. When 8-year-old Nightcrawler is taken from his bed by Azazel, Mystique realises their love has been a lie. She goes to find her son and encounters a few fellow mutants along the way. Canon relationships mild detail. R
1. A Bolt From The Blue

**I may have changed certain aspects of characters (ages, traits, etc) or locations in order for the story to flow better =)**

**This is my first fanfiction so please comment and let me know what you think =)**

It was a baby boy.

It was a beautiful baby boy.

The midwife screamed and jumped backwards, dropping the infant to the ground.

It was a beautifully blue baby boy.

The weight she had gained over the last nine months was gone in a heartbeat. As she phased to her natural blue form, she took in the looks on the observers' faces before pulling her gun and killing all three of them instantaneously. She gathered the wailing child from the floor and headed for the window. They had an agreement; she would jump and he would catch her twelve foot before she hit the ground. She had faith in him, but she'd also had faith in humanity which had shunned her aside like the lazy maid does dust. He'd promised. They'd been through the plan a million times; each time strengthening the reassurance he'd be there. She closed her eyes, held her crying newborn to her chest and stepped off the ledge. He wasn't coming. They were going to die there and then, she was sure of it. She braced herself for the collision of cobalt blue and concrete grey. A flash of red appeared before her eyes and the next thing she knew, the three of them were sitting by a lake just a few hundred metres from the castle. Of course they were; he'd never broken a promise. The red man smiled at her and looked down at the blue bundle in his arms who was opening his eyes for the first time.

"Just like his mother's." said the red man as he kissed her blue cheek. She looked down and, sure enough, her own eyes were staring back at her. The pupil-less yellow sclera glowed, just like hers had for longer than she could remember. "I've found us a place in the Bavarian Alps. We should be safe there for a while." He was right; the castle staff weren't going to take lightly to the murder of three of their own, not so shortly after they'd also lost their master; her husband. They had no idea she was responsible for all four deaths. The red man wrapped his arms around the new mother and child and in a flash, they were home. She looked around; it was perfect. The perfect place for them to raise their son, who would later come to be known as Nightcrawler.

* * *

Almost 8 years had passed since that night. Almost 8 years of transforming, teleporting and translating. For his parents, anyway. His mother spent her days transforming into various beauties to run every-day errands; his father spent his days teleporting to other spots of the country, seeking out their next home; and they both spent whatever time went on socialising translating the German jabber into the English they understood. But young Kurt need not worry about his parents' doings; it seemed the only things he'd inherited were his mother's eyes, skin and attitude and his father's hands, feet and tail. He had no special gifts; his mother assured him they hadn't developed yet but he was adamant he was different. But how would he know? He never left the house unless they were moving to a new one. He had no need to translate what was said to him; it was spoken clearly and in a language he pretty much knew inside-out. How he had developed a German accent baffled his parents as much as it did him; his father pinned it down to too much television.

"Kurt!" his mother's voices, although multiple, were heavenly. He'd grown up listening to stories of her life; not the type of story a mother usually shares with her child but there was something about Mystique's past that fascinated the young boy. He would sit and listen to her talk all day if she allowed him to. "Get in here!" Kurt trundled through to the minute kitchen to find his mother and father standing over a large blue cake; 8 candles flaming.

"Happy birthday!" they called in unison. Kurt's worried expression amended into a wide smile, revealing his pointed teeth. He sat down in front of the cake and blew out the eight candles.

"Make a wish." His father urged. He closed his eyes,

_I wish I could see the world._

Of course there was no one else there. Even if his parents had allowed him guests, he wouldn't have known where to start; he didn't know anyone but them. The three of them sat by the fire while his mother presented him with his annual gift. Last year, he distinctly remembered being given a souvenir t-shirt his father had brought back from his thirty minute trip to London, he was grateful but it didn't mean much to him. _He_ had never been to London; maybe if his father had taken him along, it would've meant more. Even though she'd told him she was once married to a rich Baron, his mother didn't have much money to buy him nice gifts. A few weeks ago, he'd curiously asked what had happened to the Baron and she'd openly admitted that she'd stabbed him to death with her dagger for suspecting her of being unfaithful and left without any money and without a second look back. This hadn't alarmed Kurt at all; he knew his mother was technically a terrorist; it was just another chapter to add to her story. His mother handed him an envelope and as he opened it, a photograph fell out; a photograph of the three of them sitting on Kurt's bed just a few weeks ago, looking like a family should. It probably hadn't cost them much at all, but to him, it was worth more than 1,000,000 deutschmarks; it was something that would last forever; something that would never change. Their smiles were stuck and no matter in what direction his family went, those memories would be eternal. His father was sat on the sofa with his red arm around his mother's blue shoulders. He sat happily staring at his photograph; it was moments like that that Kurt treasured. Moments he would remember forever.

"Come on Kurt, we gotta go." His father whispered, awakening him from his sleep. He rubbed his eyes with his two-fingered hands and looked at the time. 02:13.

"What? Where are we going?" Quarter past two was never a good time to have confusing information reach the ears.

"Just hurry up." Azazel dragged Kurt from his bed and threw a pair of trousers at him. "Put those on and let's go." Kurt stumbled into the trousers while a million questions raced through his head.

"Where's Mum?"

"She's sleeping. Now, let's go." Kurt was puzzled. Where were they going? Why wasn't she joining them?

"Does she know we're leaving?"

"Of course she does. Do you really think I'd take you away without her permission? The woman would have me killed!" He had a point. Kurt reached forward and took his father's outstretched hand and in a flash of red, they were gone.


	2. Into The Wide Blue Yonder

Raven awoke the next morning to an empty bed; an empty room; an empty house. There was no one home. No note. Nothing. She ran outside, hoping she would stumble upon her family. It wouldn't have been the first time she'd been left alone; a decade ago, a half-lover, half-enemy had wounded her and left her for dead in the sweltering heat of the Syrian Desert with nothing but a pistol to kill herself once she'd realised what a terrible person she was. She'd been married to the Baron at the time, but hey, what fun's a marriage without a little extra something on the side?

"Kurt!" She screamed into the silence of the mountains. "Azazel!" There was no reply. Whenever he'd left before, he'd given her warning; he'd told her he'd be back; he'd told her he loved her. Nothing of the kind had happened in the recent past. This couldn't be happening. Not again. He wouldn't just disappear on her; would he? He _had_ acted strangely the previous night; of all the people in the world, she had body language analysis nailed the hardest. She'd had centuries of practice herself; how could she not be an expert at it? She could tell something was on his mind; she just couldn't tell what it was. This angered her and she lashed out. He'd turned cold and said something she couldn't quite make out. Standing alone, she now regretted not seducing him into spilling; it could've been information on his present location. It felt strange, being alone again. Strange was something she thought she'd left behind long ago; of course, Normal was not something she would ever fully conquer but where she was felt as close as she would get. Standing in the cold of the morning, she shivered as she pulled her nightdress down her thighs and started to cry. Cold tears ran down her warm cheeks as she collapsed to the floor. If Azazel had taken off by himself, there was a minute chance she could've adjusted. But he'd taken her son. Her Kurt. Her baby. Her world. For that, she could never forgive him and wouldn't rest until she had him back. She knew exactly where she needed to go and exactly who she needed to talk to. It would be a long trip without the assistance of Azazel's teleportation but she didn't care; there was only one objective on her mind.

She had been a student there long, long ago and had been shown how to control her 'gift' as it had been called. She had learnt to accept herself and see her 'gift' as more of a blessing than a curse; only, she had learnt to use it in her favour rather than for what they'd wanted; a world in which homo sapiens and homo superiors could live in harmony. _They_ had never called them homo superiors but fact could not be denied. It had been stated that the human race was still evolving so why not give the evolved a classier name than 'mutants'? She was partially happy to be returning to the school but also partially nervous; she hadn't exactly left on the best of terms with the other students. She then remembered just how long it had been since she'd last step foot inside the school and realised that most of them would've bitten the dust a while back. She changed into something a little more appropriate than a nightdress; a black, cut-off leather vest and black leather trousers and strapped her gun to her leg. She never went anywhere without that gun; she practically slept with it. Gun in holster and heart on sleeve, she took a deep breath and stepped forward.

It hadn't taken quite as long as she'd thought to get to Westchester County after all; all she'd had to do was disguise herself as another and gain herself instant first class tickets to New York. No problem; no problem at all. To her, phasing was second to breathing. Approaching the building, she was overcome with a mixture of feelings; panic, regret, nausea; excitement, relief, contentment. It was smaller than she remembered, but she had been a lot younger and smaller herself the last time she was anywhere near it. Not knowing how they would react to her uninvited presence, she decided to hide in the trees until nightfall; little did she know, protection on the place had improved since she was there last and she was soon greeted by a familiar face; but not one she wanted to see.

"Hey, bub!" The voice was unchanged. "Show yourself!" Keeping in her phased form, she peered around the tree she was hiding behind. "We could have you done for trespassing." She closed her eyes and stepped out of the bushes. The face didn't seem to recognise her; but then again, she wasn't in the natural form he knew. "What do you want? Why are you here?" he was stern and, frankly scared her a little. "Talk!"

"Logan. I-"

"How do you know my name?" His eyes stared trepidatiously into hers. Her short black hair slowly grew into long red waves, the pale white of her skin melted to opaque blue and her green duffel coat reformed to her black leather outfit. "You?" his voice said surprise but his face said concern. "What are- When did- How-" She placed a blue finger to his cold lips. He was obviously wondering how she had survived his attack, how she had survived the heat of the Syrian Desert; how she had survived the thought of eternal loneliness.

"Save your breath, sweet cheeks. I came to talk to the Professor, not you." She swept past him but he forcefully grabbed her arm, stopping her in her path.

"I can't let you in there." He growled. She didn't need to ask why. He didn't trust her. And she didn't blame him.

"Well then, could you deliver a message?" The next most sensible option, although, the first that came to mind was killing him there and then and going to find the Professor herself. His response made her think he'd expected the same thing of her,

"I, uh, I don't…see why not." He released her arm, not enough for her to escape but enough for her to regain circulation.

"I need you to ask him if he can do me a favour...involving Cerebro."

"How do you know about Cerebro?" He was just as judging as he always had been.

"I helped design it…bub." Teasing people with their own mannerisms was something she enjoyed profoundly. "Years ago, when I was a student here, Xavier was perhaps little closer to me than he was to anyone else, he told me about his plans for Cerebro and I asked if I could help, and let's face it, the guy doesn't like saying no." Logan turned, perhaps in boredom, to enter the school but she stopped him. "Oh, and this is yours." She said as she threw her pistol to Logan who caught it with a puzzled look on his face. "I didn't need it after all." Guessing by the sudden look of realisation on his face, he'd latched onto what she'd meant. He put the gun in his back pocket and as she retreated back to the trees to wait for an answer, he headed inside to ask the question.

When he returned, he wasn't alone. He was accompanied by another familiar face.

"Raven. It's so nice to see you again. It's been a while." It had; and the years hadn't been kind to the old man. He was confined to a wheelchair; he was without hair; and his face was definitely starting to show his age. "Why don't you come inside and we'll talk through-."

"You're not serious!" Logan interjected. "Her? Inside? Don't you know who she is?"

"I probably know her better than she knows herself. And, Logan, if I turned people away when they came to my door for help, you would still be wandering around with no recollection of who you are. Now come, Raven, there's a few people I want you to meet." She followed him into the building, which, now she was inside, she realised hadn't changed at all, and down the familiar halls into his familiar office, followed closely by a suspecting Logan. Four other homo superiors entered the room shortly after them; two male and two female.

"You wanted to see us, Professor?" said a tall, redheaded woman.

"Raven, this is Jean Grey. She's a telepath like me but she also possesses a large store of telekinetic ability." Raven nodded to Jean who hostilely returned the notion, clearly not taking well to her arrival. "She was a student here, like you, but she decided to stay on to help me run the school." A slightly taller, brown-haired man, who was, for some reason, wearing sunglasses, shuffled behind Jean. "And that's Scott Summers, also known as Cyclops. Those glasses control an optic blast; a beam of energy with a destructive nature centred in his eyes." Telepaths. Nosy bastards. "I recruited him a few years ago and he now teaches leadership and tactics here in the school." He then gestured to a woman with snow white hair and dark caramel skin. "Ororo Munroe, also known as Storm. She has the gift of weather manipulation and has worked here as a mentor to the children for a number of years." Storm seemed almost as excited as Jean at the thought of a newcomer who was not a child nor in any official 'good books'. "And that is Warren Worthington," he informed her as he signalled towards the blonde-haired man standing at the back of the group. "also known as Angel. He has the superhuman power of flight and is our current fight class instructor; a class you enjoyed if I remember correctly?" she smiled towards Warren who was the only one of the four whose face told her she wasn't going to be completely isolated.

"Professor, this is ridiculous!" Logan clearly couldn't keep his thoughts to himself any longer. "Why bother introducing her when all she needs is an hour of your time?"

"Because, Logan, I've a feeling what she needs is going to take a little more than an hour."

"How do you-" but before she'd even finished her question, Raven knew the answer; he was a telepath. Of course he knew why she was there. "Stay out of my head." She joked.

"I apologise, Raven. Now, Angel, if you wouldn't mind escorting Miss Darkholme to her room, I've a few things I need to talk through with everyone else." Her room? How long did he think she was staying? She wasn't spending any more time in the place than was absolutely necessary; she had her son to find. She and Warren left the room and he led her up the stairs.

"So, what's your real name, Darkholme?" he asked, almost in a flirty manner.

"Mystique."

"Mystique. I like it. Very…French." He smiled and she laughed. "You know, those guys will adjust to you. They're often odd with new people."

"Really?" she assumed they'd all been taught to accept _anyone_ that walked through the door.

"No. Not really." He admitted. "I just said that to make you feel better." He hung his head in shame.

"It's okay. I'm used to rejection. How do you think I ended up here in the first place?" First, her parents. And now, Azazel.

"So, you got any gifts or are you just…you know, blue?" she took the moment to her advantage as she phased to the blonde haired man that had inquired. "Wow. That's pretty awesome. So, like, can you do that with anyone or do they, like, have to be there?" his question was answered when she shifted into the form of the white haired woman she had met just a few minutes ago. "Awesome." They stopped outside a door. "Okay, look, I don't know where your room is but this is my room. Make yourself at home." He opened the door and then disappeared down the long hallway. She stepped inside, disposed of Storm's appearance and stood in front of the mirror. Although she had been taught to accept her reflection, she couldn't help but hate it sometimes. Life would be so much simpler if the face staring back at her wasn't the colour of sapphire; if the eyes weren't the colour of topaz. She sat on Warren's bed in deep thought for a while and didn't even notice Logan enter the room.

"The Professor wants you." His voice startled her. "He's in his office."

After regaining her scattered thoughts, she responded to the Professor's summon. He knew of her presence before she entered and was gazing out of the window when she did, something he did a lot when he was troubled.

"Professor? Is something wrong?"

"No, no. Everything's just fine." He wheeled his chair around to face her. "Now, you need me to use Cerebro, yes?" She nodded in confirmation. "I have to warn you, the particular mutant you are searching for, as I'm sure you're aware, possesses magical abilities and so may have disguised your son along with himself and Cerebro is not all that developed." He smiled at her sympathetically. "I'm just preparing you for if it fails us."

"Look, I don't mean to be rude but I have no idea where they are and I really just want to get on with it."

"That's quite alright, Raven. I understand your agitation." He smiled and led her out of the office and down the hallway. They stopped in front of a wall which opened before them revealing an elevator. The journey down felt longer than it actually was; she tried to prepare herself for the failure of the machine but couldn't do it; she didn't know what she'd do if it didn't work. The door opened and the walls were silver, the floor was silver, everything was rounded and modern; a contrast to the traditional structure of the upper levels. She followed the Professor to the end of the long corridor to a large round door marked with an X. He stopped to allow it to identify him.

"Welcome, Professor." Was the greeting they received from the machine. The room was spherical and silver, just like it had been when she'd last seen it on its blueprints. She hadn't been around to see its construction but it was nice to see it had been done justice. The Professor placed the silver helmet onto his hairless head and Raven prayed he would succeed in locating her lost boy. The minutes felt like years while she waited and when he finally removed the helmet, she closed her eyes.

"I'm sorry, Raven." Her head fell in disappointment. "I wasn't able to locate them. Either they have, like I said, disguised themselves or…there is another possibility."

"What is it?" she asked, impatiently.

"There is a chance Azazel has taken Kurt home."

"Home? As is…home? But he didn't leave a note, he didn't-"

"Raven, I didn't mean your home. I meant his home. Azazel is not a mutant of _this_ world. He is not a human-mutant like you and I. He belongs to a race called the Neyaphrem. The Neyaphrem originate from a separate dimension to ours known as the Brimstone dimension. Cerebro was not developed to locate mutants in other dimension, only our own; if Azazel has taken Kurt home, that would explain why we can't find them, but it might not be too late. If we can locate the portal to the Brimstone dimension, Warren, who belongs to the Cheyarafim - a race of angelic mutants - has the ability to open it."

"How do we find it?"

"That's the problem. We can't. Unless…"

"Unless what?" her impatience was something she hated about herself but it was instinctive. The Professor looked into his lap; something else he did when troubled.

"Unless Cerebro is altered. As it is now, it is impossible to locate mutants in or near other dimensions. Your son may still be here but he may be too close to a portal to detect."

"Well, can't we just do that? Alter it?" it seemed a perfectly viable option, but she had a feeling it wasn't that easy.

"It's not that simple, Raven." Just as she'd thought. "It takes immense skill to alter a machine such as Cerebro."

"Professor, if I may, could I…give it a go? I'm not exactly a novice." She could tell he was pondering his thoughts as he looked into her yellow eyes.

"It's a very complex machine and I'm just not sure your abilities match those needed to amend it."

"Professor, I've done stuff like this before, perhaps not with stuff as advanced as Cerebro but please, just…give me a chance." The desperation in her eyes was clearly too much for the Professor to take.

"Okay, but I have warned you; you may not be successful. I understand it's easy to pin all of your hopes on this, but I plead of you, please do not." Easier said than done.

**For those of you unfamiliar with the 'Get Mystique' storyline… **

**Logan stabbed Raven and left her with his pistol (in the Syrian dessert) to kill herself once she realised how terrible a person she was. Just thought I'd mention that in case I confused anyone with the pistol reference earlier on.**


	3. Screaming Blue Murder

"Father, where _are_ we going? I feel we've been walking forever." The two of them had been walking through the woods for a few hours at least but a few hours were like a million years to an eight year old boy who was uninformed of his destination.

"Be quiet, Kurt. And stop asking questions. If you ask questions it's only going to take longer."

"But, why can't we just teleport there?"

"Kurt!" Azazel stopped in his tracks and turned to face his son who was also stopped, but only to avoid walking into his father. "What did I _just_ say? No more questions." Kurt took a step backwards, shocked at the hostility of his father's words. "Come on, we're nearly there now." He grabbed Kurt's wrist forcefully and dragged him the remainder of the journey.

Shortly afterwards, they were approaching a wooden house large enough, Kurt presumed, to house only a few people. Azazel knocked on the door and they waited for an answer. A lean woman with blue hair eventually opened it and greeted them with a relieved smile.

"I've been waiting a _long_ time to open the door and find you two on the other side of it." She looked at Kurt and her smile widened.

"Tell me about it." Azazel replied, with a smile just as relieved as the woman's. Something was happening. Something Kurt was unaware of. He couldn't help but feel it was something bad. Why else would they be at a strange woman's house in the middle of nowhere?

"Come in, come in. Then we can get started."

"Started at what? What's she talking about, father?" Kurt enquired when the woman had turned her back.

"No. More. Questions. Get inside." His father's hostility had worsened; if only Kurt _had_ inherited his abilities, he would've been able to leave before anyone else had even noticed he had arrived. Azazel shoved Kurt through the threshold and into the small house. Kurt was surprised to see around ten others sat on sofas and chairs, the few smallest of them on the floor. They all looked so different but so similar at the same time, though he couldn't pinpoint why. Some were tall, some were small; some were fat, some were thin. A blonde haired girl, a little older than himself, caught his eye as he looked around the crowded room but the blue haired woman took him by the hand and dragged him further in before he had a chance to ask his father who she was.

"Everyone, this is Kurt." How did she know his name?" "He's the one we've been waiting for and I'm sure it goes without saying that he's special." She looked at him and flashed him a deranged smile. "You are to make him feel at home." She added, more aggressively. She let go of his hand and took Azazel's in its place, leading him through to the adjoining kitchen. Kurt was left in the spotlight of the other beings, frozen in confusion. The light faded.

"Kurt? Kurt, can you hear me?" He opened his eyes to find a hoard of people standing over him as he lay on the couch. "Kurt?" The blonde girl spoke softly. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He replied as he rose to a seated position. "What happened?"

"You fainted. Must've got nervous." To say the least. "I'm Jimaine. Jimaine Szardos."

"I'm Kurt-"

"Wagner. I know who you are."

"But…how?"  
"My mother – uh, the woman with the blue hair – she's been waiting a long time for you. Says you're the final piece of the puzzle."

"What puzzle?"

"I don't know." She looked around at the others. "None of us do. But she says it's real important that you're on our side."

"How can I be on your side when I don't know what the other is?" Jimaine's eyes were deep with thought.

"To be honest with ya, Tails, none of us know that either. None of us know nothing." Spoke a large man with strange Aboriginal markings on his face and who spoke with an Australian accent. "I'm Marcus, but I tend to go by Kiwi. I'm from New Zealand, you see. Best to stick to your own roots, right?"

"Guys, give him some room." Commanded Jimaine as she wiggled her way back between the people who had gathered closer. She looked at the kitchen door where her mother and his father's voices were getting louder. "So, that's your dad?" Kurt nodded in confirmation. "You look like him, but..." She stopped and studied his face. "Your eyes...they're beautiful. So...bright." Kurt replied with the one single thought that came to mind.

"My mother's are the same." He soon felt a warm sensation on his cheek and realised he was crying. Jimaine sat next to him and put a pale arm around his blue shoulders.

"Hey, what is it?" She spoke calmly and comfortingly, the way his mother always did when he was upset. "Guys, get out of here. Find something to do." The numerous others disappeared and scattered themselves around the house. Kurt wiped his eyes and apologised to Jimaine. "Hey, it's okay; you've had a rough day."

"Yeah, guess I just miss home. I didn't even get to say goodbye to my mother. I don't even think she knows where I am. Father said she did but – I don't know." She smiled sympathetically.

"No one else got to say goodbye either, you're not alone."

"What?" _No one else got to say goodbye either_? "What do you mean?"

"I don't think your father has been completely honest with you, Kurt." She looked suspiciously back to the kitchen door, as if expecting someone to burst out and attack them. When no one did, she faced him again. "Kiwi told me the same thing had happened to him; his father took him from his bed the night after his eight birthday and brought him here, told him his mother knew." She looked down into her lap. "Hasn't seen her since. Everyone that shows up here has the exact same story."

"But, why? What's so important about here?"

"I don't know but Azazel seems pretty sure you all need to be here. Why else would he have brought you all?"

"My father brought everyone here? But you said Kiwi's father brought him. Or-"

"Yes." How was that possible? There must've been at least ten others and from what his mother had told him, he'd only ever been with her. Although, it would explain why they all looked so differently alike. "Kurt, Azazel _is_ Kiwi's father. _Everyone_ who was in this room a minute ago is a child of Azazel." Kurt's head filled with questions, the predominant being 'why?' Why would he have done that to his mother? To all these other women? To him? He'd lied. No doubt, he'd lied to them all. It all became too much for Kurt to bear and he ran for the door but, as he reached for the handle, he was thrown across the room by a powerful force. His head hit the opposing wall with a loud crack before his immobile body fell to the floor.

"Kurt!" He slowly opened his eyes and struggled to see Jimaine beside him. His father and the blue haired woman were blurred in his vision as they stood by the kitchen door.

"Thank you, Margali." Azazel spoke. His red eyes stared menacingly into Kurt's own yellow ones that were rolling around in his head as he paced across the room towards his son's helpless body. Azazel bent down so he was at Kurt's level. "Now, Kurt, you will not leave this house. It is _very_ important that we stay here." He turned to the door and Kurt heard a faint clicking noise. "There. Now no one is leaving."

"You know we can just unlock it again, right?" Jimaine retorted.

"Oh, Jimaine. Poor, naïve Jimaine. You really think I would leave that an option? But…go ahead, give it a try." The thing was, the suggestion didn't seen rhetorical. Jimaine walked over to the door and grabbed hold of the handle only to whip her hand away faster than Azazel could get…well, pretty much anywhere.

"Ouch!" She exclaimed as she clasped her burnt hand to her chest.

"Who _are_ you?" Kurt managed to voice. The answer did not come from the one he'd wanted it to but instead, from Margali.

"That, my boy, is not important. What _is_ important is that you're here." She smiled maliciously. "That you're all here."

"One problem." Piped Jimaine. "Abyss isn't back yet."


	4. Between The Devil And The Deep Blue Sea

The alteration of Cerebro had been a challenge but it was almost complete. Sure, she'd sweated and bled over it, but she'd done it alone; an accomplishment in anyone else's books, a mere normality in her own. As she tightened the last screw, she felt a light tap on her shoulder and turned around to find Logan standing over her.

"Logan! You scared me." She exclaimed as she stared into his calm eyes. He had a look on his face that made her think he was searching her for something he wasn't going to find. Something that had vanished a long time ago. "What's up?" she enquired, nonchalantly, as she returned to tending to the machine. Silence followed.

"I just-" he faltered. "I wanted to say…I'm sorry." His apology startled her to the extent that she dropped her spanner which made a loud clang as metal hit metal. "I overreacted. I should never have left you." Raven's head searched for an explanation she was having trouble locating. But it was quickly unearthed when she explored the memories of her life before Kurt and Azazel. A life that seemed now only to be an illusion.

"Syria?"

"Yes." His eyes looked deeper into hers and her heart skipped a beat; not through affection, but through something else she couldn't fathom; perhaps remorse. "It's the only regret I have."

"Logan, I understand that you were angry. You had every right to be. I mean, after what I did, I don't blame you for wanting vengeance." She stood up and moved closer to the beast-like man. "But, I was young, I was excited, I was only looking for a little fun. Only, fun to me back then was having a revenge-fuelled man chase me cross-country for killing a woman while impersonating him." She studied his face which was starting to soften at the disclosure of her own regret. "I brought it on myself, Logan. It was me. It was my fault." Perhaps what he had been searching for hadn't vanished completely. Her heart skipped another beat as he moved closer to her; this time, however, she felt it was through more than affection. All of her unnecessary hatred for him was soon shunned to one side as he pulled her into him. Their lips traced each other, gently at first, and then more passionately. Raven's tongue painted Logan's lower lip with desire and Logan's hers. She felt his cool hand move up her thigh and tensed as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him harder. They stood as one, passionately amalgamated until Logan broke the connection many minutes later. Raven gasped for air and smoothed her flame-red hair against her head. "Well…" she stopped to regain her breath. "Cerebro's finished." Logan let out a husky guffaw and it continued as he spoke,

"Raven Darkholme: mutant, lover…mechanic." She laughed along with him. "That's really all you have to say?" She pretended to think for a while.

"Yep. Now, come on, let's find the Professor. He's got a job to do."

The Professor was exactly where she'd expected him to be; in his office, staring out of the large window. He wasn't the only one to accompany them back to Cerebro – Jean insisted that she try it out first in order to prevent the possible death of the Professor due to the 'faulty altering' she was almost certain Raven had inflicted on the machine. The four of them headed down to the spherical room and Jean entered alone.

"You know, Raven, this didn't take you quite as long as I thought it would. I expected to come down here in a few days to find you reasonably irritated over the idea of failure." Remarked the Professor.

"Well, what can I say? I know my stuff. A task that would take a normal person a few days takes Raven Darkholme only a few hours."

"Raven Darkholme: mechanic." Teased Logan. Raven had to stifle her laugh and replace it with a subtle smile so that the Professor didn't catch on.

"Precisely." The Professor's comment made it even harder for her to not laugh. "We're lucky to have you around." She swallowed her smile and replied,

"No, Professor, I'm lucky that you're around. If you weren't, well…there would be no way of finding Kurt." As she finished her sentence, the round doors opened and Jean re-entered the corridor. "Any luck?"

"It works fine. But it was too hard for me to find your son. I don't have the control." Jean meekly replied. "You're going to have to do it." She informed the Professor before swiftly pacing back down the corridor to the elevator.

"What got into her?" Raven questioned, intrigued.

"Scott probably." Logan chuckled to himself. "Ha, I don't know. Probably just the appearance of yet another strong female, she's always had a thing against you guys." He smiled charmingly as the Professor spoke,

"Now, Raven, even though Jean confirmed its working, I please ask you not to get your hopes up." He soon disappeared into the room and, as the doors closed behind him, Logan pulled Raven closer to him.

"Hey! No." She demanded. "I may be on the verge of finding my son, this is no time for…tomfoolery or whatever you want to call it." She attempted to push him away but his strength was more than she could counter.

"Okay then." He teasingly replied. "I'm gonna get ya later though, you realise that?" He released her and his tone became more serious. "I've spent all these years hoping to myself that you didn't use that pistol and, well…let's just say, I'm never letting you go again." She smiled and planted a small kiss on his lips.

"There. That's all you're getting for now. My son needs me." She turned and faced the door in impatience. The Professor wasn't in there long but it felt like a lifetime to Raven; she'd lived through enough of them to know what one felt like.

"They're still here. They appear to be settled with a mutant named Margali Szardos; a sorceress. But they're not alone. They seem to have gathered an army of some sort."

"Well, I wouldn't be surprised if he's harassed some family somewhere; he's only gone and done that to me. Who's to say he won't do it to someone else?"

"They seem to be mutants of various ages, various appearances, but mutants with one very similar ability. Teleportation." Xavier informed her. She didn't need to voice her question for the Professor to know what she was thinking. "It means either Azazel has scoured the globe putting together an army of Teleporters or… he's produced them himself." His expression was one of sympathy.

"What, so you're saying they're…clones or something?" Raven's head was scrambled from the events of the past few days and she found it difficult to follow what the Professor was saying.

"Raven, I'm saying they could be Azazel's children." No. He'd only been with her. That's what he'd told her. But, if their whole lives together had been a lie, what's to say he hadn't lied about that too? He'd never loved her. And he'd taken Kurt. Nothing shows love like stealing a mother's son from her, right? "Raven, I'm sure he had a judicious reason to do the things he did. You can't jump to conclusions." Of course; he'd read her thoughts again. Even after she'd told him to stay out of her head. It all became too much that she ran and entered the first door she encountered. It was another spherical room but didn't look as technical as Cerebro's dwelling. She collapsed against a metal pole in the centre of the room and heard the door open again. She looked towards it and saw Logan's dark silhouette contrast against the light of the corridor. He walked over to her and held the sobbing woman to his chest.

"You know, it's a good job we turned off the security in this room. You'd literally be in shreds if we hadn't. Appropriately named 'The Danger Room'. Original, I know." He was clearly trying to divert her attention to something less depressing…and failing. "Hey now, come on, don't cry." People in this place were intent on giving instructions that were easier said than done. "The Professor's gone to assemble the team. We're gonna go get your son back, okay? You're gonna see him again, I promise." She allowed her tears to sober up before pulling back from Logan. He smiled sympathetically at her and put an arm around her waist as they walked to the jet where the rest of the X-Men were waiting; Jean, Storm, Cyclops, Angel and some others she hadn't been introduced to. There was a girl of no older than 15 standing among them whose brown hair fell in tight curls around her face. But there was something unusual about it; Raven could've sworn there was a white streak down one side of it. Perhaps it was the light. These guys couldn't possibly be thinking about putting _her_ life in danger, could they? She was just a child clearly in the wrong place. She belonged upstairs. Upstairs and safe with the other children. She was clearly a rogue to them. Someone unlike themselves in more ways than one. Someone they could use, Raven feared, for all the wrong reasons.


	5. Black And Blue

**Sorry it's taken me so long to update but I've had a load of college work to do =S**

**Well, here it is =P**

**Enjoy...**

An enthusiastic voice could be heard a few hundred metres from the house, greeting the inhabitants of it; the volume of which shook Kurt from his slumber. Not long after his rude awakening, Kurt heard a scream of pain from the other side of the door. Jimaine ran to it, but before opening it, recoiled and looked at her, now scarred, hand.

"What is _up_ with this handle?" quizzed the voice.

"Yeah, you might not wanna touch that." Jimaine advised.

"Um…A little too late, don't you think?" was the sarcastic reply she received. "Do I have to climb through the window or are you gonna open this damn door up?"

"I can't. And I wouldn't risk the windows either."

"So how do I get in? The chimney?" the sarcasm in the voice had surely peaked. "Go and get my father." The words didn't sound right to Kurt. Azazel was _his_ father. No one else's. Jimaine departed and left Kurt lying on the sofa staring out of a window that, after not much time at all, a face appeared at. "Hey, you're new. I'm Abyss." Kurt remained silent, not knowing what to say. "And you are…?"

"Kurt Wagner." Abyss's face soon developed a look of realisation but before he could speak, Azazel came stomping down the stairs, annoyed he had been disturbed.

"That's what you get for being late, Nils. Get here on time next time." Azazel reached for the handle, without fear, and opened the door. He'd most likely made it so only he, and possibly Margali, were the only ones unaffected by the curse. Abyss scuttled into the small room and stood docilely in front of his angered father who looked like he was refraining from knocking the living daylights out of him like he had done Kurt. Instead of acting on his desires, he looked down and said, "Go and get your brothers and sisters. We've got a long journey ahead of us."

"Father?" Kurt voiced, still weak from his 'accident'. "Where are you going?"

"Nowhere without you." Azazel replied hostilely and then commanded him to 'get his crap together' before returning up the stairs.

"_What_ crap?" Kurt wondered aloud. He'd left the house with nothing more than the jeans and pyjama top he was wearing and the photograph his parents had given him which he had managed to grab as one of them had hastily dragged him from the house. He considered ripping his father out of it but something inside him told him not to. The room seemed eerily quiet with no one else in it so Kurt decided to venture upstairs. It was smaller than he'd imagined, especially for a house that was home to so many people. Judging by the number of doors off the hallway, there must've been at least three people to one bedroom. Now he was upstairs, he realised he had no plan on what to do next. He headed towards a partially open door and heard voices inside.

"Are you sure it will work?" One was his father's.

"Yes, I'm sure. I didn't stick around here for God-knows-how-many years for it to fail now." The other, Margali's. "You had eleven children, right?" Kurt had to guess his father's silent reply. "Right." A nod, perhaps. "And they're all of at least eight years old, yes?" Kurt assumed his father has nodded again. "So the portal will open as you approach it. As long as all eleven of them are present. Azazel, if you lose _any_ along the way, you know what that means."

"I know, I know." There were a few seconds of silence before he continued. "Margali I want to thank you for everything you've done. I don't know where I'd be without you"

"Don't mention it." There was a pause before she continued. "How you doing with all this anyway?"

Azazel sighed. "I don't know." Kurt moved closer to the door, peered through the gap between it and the doorframe and watched Azazel move over to the small couch and sit down. Margali followed suit. "I..." He looked down into his lap. "I can't even imagine what she's thinking right now." Margali seemed to understand exactly who he was talking about.

"Azazel, you've done this so many times before. I don't understand how you aren't used to this by now." She placed a hand on his thigh and stroked it gently. Azazel pushed it away with some force, stood up and started to pace the room.

"No, Margali, you don't understand." He said, voice a little louder and more aggressive than usual. "You don't understand because you've never loved." He placed a palm to his forehead, shrugged and looked back towards the startled woman on the couch. "Raven is my _life_. Can you at least understand _that_? Out of all these women I've had to... _use_, she's the only one that's actually meant _anything_ to me." Margali remained silent and Azazel re-joined her on the couch. "The first time I met her... when that _idiot_ husband of hers introduced us... there was something there. Yes, I hated the guy but... she took care of that. She was the one for me and that proved she felt the same way. I loved her from the start. Nothing's changed." Azazel let out a grunt of anguish. "Margali, what am I going to do? I know can't go back but-"

"Hey." Kurt was started by the whisper that came from behind him. He whirled round, almost throwing the door behind him open with his tail, to find Jimaine standing few inches from him. "Whatya doing?"

"I... um... nothing." Kurt quickly but quietly returned downstairs, preventing Jimaine from quizzing him anymore, and joined his many other siblings in the small living room.

* * *

Not much time passed before Azazel also joined the accumulation of mutants. His red face seemed redder than usual; Kurt assumed he'd gotten riled up talking about... something he couldn't understand. Why couldn't they go back? There was clearly a reason for leaving but... what _was_ it? Azazel remained on one of the stairs to give his speech.

"Okay, we've got quite a distance to go and, as those of you who are of age will discover, you won't be able to get there any faster than the rest of us." He stopped to watch the younger of the older mutants fail in their attempts. "You may also find that once we arrive… you will change."

"In what way?" asked Abyss.

"More than one." Azazel informed all who stood before him. "You may find yourself with a more 'survival of the fittest' attitude; you may find your emotions harder to control. But whatever happens we _must not_ turn on each other. Am I clear?" there was a murmur of confirmation before Azazel moved from the step to the main door. He opened it, again without fear, and his offspring passed him one at a time and stepped out of the house they had been cooped up in for God knows how long. Kurt was the last out of the door and, as he walked past him, his father turned away, almost as if he was afraid of looking him in the eyes. The eyes that were an exact reflection of his mother's.

* * *

The trek to wherever it was they were going was taking it out of Kurt and he could've sworn someone was following them. Azazel was leading, and keeping a strict eye on, the pack. Kurt prayed someone would inform him of their destination; the last time he'd remained naïve he'd ended up confused out of his mind. That same confusion still hadn't shifted. Kurt whirled around when he heard yet another twig snap behind him. No one. He quickly caught up with his siblings before Azazel could reprimand him for stalling or straying or walking too slow or being useless or doing something wrong or being born.

"Pssst!" He wasn't crazy. Sure, that blow to his head had maybe left him a little delusional, but he definitely wasn't crazy. Not only was someone following them, but they weren't doing it very secretively. Kurt slowed a little.

"Pssst, Kurt!" He look around but still saw no one. At least not a first. A second glance saw a young girl attempting to hide behind a tree.

"What are you doing?" Kurt enquired as Jimaine cautiously stepped out of her cover.

"I had to see what was going on. You think I was gonna let you act weird and then not tell me what was up?" Her eyes stared, almost menacingly, into his own. "Not a chance in hell, Buddy." Kurt turned and saw the rest of the party still walking ahead of the stationary member and his new friend. "Come on, let's catch up." Jimaine insisted.

"But, Jimaine, Azazel will-"

"I don't care." Her voice was stern and her statement final. "Sure, he's given me the whole 'you're not one of us' speech but… I'm scared for you. I had to see what was happening and… and that you were okay." The two of them ran, as light-footedly as they could as not to bring attention to themselves, and caught up. "So what _was_ going on in my mother's room? And don't say 'nothing' because it was clearly something." Kurt thought a while before answering.

"They were just talking about _my_ mother." She was getting no more than that. He didn't really understand it enough to explain it. "I miss her, that's all." Kurt could tell she knew that wasn't it but she chose not to persist in her quiz. "Don't let Azazel see you. You might want to follow a little behind." Jimaine smiled sympathetically, nodded and fell back.


End file.
